


Burning City

by FaieWild



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Game: Resident Evil 2, Gen, I just wanna kiss Leon on the gotdang mouth for several hours, I'm bad at writing romance I'm sorry, M/M, Slow Burn, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaieWild/pseuds/FaieWild
Summary: Reader is Chris Redfield's sibling, come to Raccoon City to try and find him after a month of no communication and troubling news reports.Basically it's gonna be RE2 remake but with reader instead of Claire and a few things (especially a bit towards the end of the game) will be altered to allow for more fluff moments.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Reader
Kudos: 18





	Burning City

**Author's Note:**

> A/N || I'm trying to write this as gender neutral so that you can self insert regardless where you sit on the gender spectrum but there might be a couple slip-ups since I'm femme and so is Claire. If I happen to do so just lemme know and I'll try to fix it!. Also this is the first fanfiction I'm posting online so be kind please! Hope you enjoy! ||

It was an exceptionally rainy night for late September. Even with fresh tires my bike had a hard time staying on the highway just outside of Raccoon City. The rain wasn’t enough to deter me though, Chris had gone through a lot worse for me before so I wasn’t going to let a little water keep me from finding my brother. It had been nearly a month since I last heard from him and it wasn’t like the last thing I heard was very informative. He had sent me a letter that basically said not to believe the news about the S.T.A.R.S (the unit he worked for at the Raccoon City Police Department) and their incompetence. He said he was okay and that he was looking into something but he couldn’t tell me what because it might be too dangerous. He insisted he was okay though and not to worry too much about him.

I mostly believed him. At this point in my life I believed Chris was nigh invincible. He taught me how to throw a punch without breaking my wrist when I was 14, he taught me how to shoot a gun for my 18th birthday, he joined the Air Force the day he turned 21 and made it out of a training accident completely unscathed, and now he ran point on the Alpha team of the city’s elite task force. Chris was an absolute tank. He could probably straight punch a boulder and the rock would give way before his fist would. So I spent the couple of weeks after his letter came in complete confidence that he was fine. That is, until news reports started leaking out of Raccoon City about outbreaks, and some sort of “cannibal disease”. Chris hadn’t responded to any of my letters and when I called him a couple of days ago the phone went straight to voicemail. Clearly something was up and I needed to know what. I needed to know that Chris was all right.

I was so engrossed in my own thoughts about Chris that I nearly missed the sign for a little gas station just outside the city limits. My gas tank was just about on E so I definitely wouldn’t have made it all the way into the city if I missed the place. It wasn’t too long after I passed the sign that I saw the glow from the gas station lights cut through the rainy darkness. Slowing down I pulled off into the little gas station and stopped at one of the pumps. Killing the engine I took a look around and noticed a police cruiser was stopped here as well. The door had been left open and there was something off about the shiny pavement beneath it. I walked closer to the car and realized the pavement was wet with blood, not rain. It seemed like someone was seriously injured based on the amount of red I saw reflecting the dim gas station lights.

Suddenly there was a loud crash from inside the gas station. It sounded like glass shattering. Was the place getting robbed? I tried to look inside but all the lights had been turned off so the windows revealed nothing but my own worried reflection. Putting my hand on the cold metal of the door handle I pushed it open slowly, not wanting to alert anyone inside to my presence just in case someone in there was armed. Cracking the door open revealed nothing but more darkness, an abandoned flashlight on the ground making everything eerily underlit. PIcking up the flashlight I walked forward into the seemingly empty gas station.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out into the darkness. I got nothing but silence in return. Turning the corner at the end of an aisle revealed a man sitting on the floor, clutching a deep wound in his neck.

“Oh my god, sir, are you okay?” I asked as I hurried over to check on him. He weakly raised an arm and pointed at the open doorway beside him.

“Wait right here, I’ll go check it out,” I assured him although I wasn’t sure if he was leading me towards someone else who was injured or the person responsible. The hallway he indicated was just as unsettling as the darkened aisles behind it, if not worse due to the ice cold temperatures given off by the back of the freezers. I slowly made my way forward, flashlight held high with one hand, the other undoing the holster of my gun that Chris had given me for my birthday just a few months ago. The sound of the door shutting behind me made me jump but I continued towards the doorway at the end of the hall. The door that I assumed led to the back room of the place was propped open slightly. The sounds of a struggle and a strange growling noise were leaking out from behind it.

As I slowly pushed the door open the beam from my flashlight revealed the police officer the cruiser clearly belonged to, he appeared to be struggling with a suspect against one of the stock shelves.

“Excuse me sir, is everything alright?” I asked.

The cop turned around, one arm still holding the suspect back to address me. “Stay back ma’am. I got this,” he assured me in the calm, steady voice that comes with years of experience. The man he had been holding back took the opportunity to lurch forward onto the officer, knocking him to the ground with a loud, raspy growl and before I could make a single movement to help the cop, the man on top of him leaned down and bit right into his neck.

“Oh my god!” I said before I could stop myself. The man continued to pull away at the officer’s neck with his teeth.

“Get off him!” I yelled, taking a step forward. “I said GET OFF HIM!”

The final increase in the volume of my voice made the attacker slowly raise his head to look at me, a huge chunk of the policeman’s flesh hanging from between his teeth. Clearly there was something very wrong with this guy. His eyes were completely milked over, you couldn’t even make out the shape of an iris. His skin was incredibly dry and a very disturbing grey colour that you usually only saw on the monsters in horror movies. If I didn’t know any better I would have said this guy had been dead for a couple weeks.

Immediate regret and a very primal sense of dread filled my veins as the attacker slowly staggered to his feet. I freed my gun from its holster and raised it at the disheveled man in front of me, supporting my gun hand with the wrist of my other arm as Chris had taught me. I was acutely aware of how little space there was between me and this crazed individual. He raised his arms and took a single step towards me. Adrenaline was flooding my body and instinct completely took over. Before the guy could take a second step I fired three bullets into his chest. The force of the shots ripped through his body and he stumbled back a couple steps before releasing another raspy gurgle and continuing his drunken shambling towards me.

“What the fuck?!” I said out loud to no one in particular. There was no one there to give me any sort of an answer. I raised my gun a few inches, aiming for his face now, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet went straight through his eye socket and his head whipped back with the force. His body fell back on the cold tile, completely limp.

One glance at the amount of blood that had spilled from the officer's neck told me that he was already dead. I turned around to leave but the door behind me had locked automatically. There was an exit sign glowing in a nearby corner so I made my way over to it around a couple of shelves. Shit. This door was locked too. Maybe there was a key back here somewhere. Between some of the shelving I could see the dim glow of a lamp above a desk in the back corner behind some bottles of motor oil and windshield washer fluid. Unfortunately I would have to step over the bodies of the officer and the man that had attacked him to get to it. Walking incredibly slowly with overly exaggerated movements almost like a cartoon character I managed to step over the two dead bodies by supporting myself with a nearby shelf.

There was a single key hanging on a hook above what I assumed to be the equivalent of a manager’s desk. The small tag attached to it read “stock room”. That was promising. Now it was hopefully one more step over the bodies and out of this horrid stockroom to check on the injured cashier and use the payphone outside to call for help. Unfortunately the trip back over the bodies was less successful than the first one. I had to take a much bigger step to avoid the growing pool of blood that continued to surround the officer’s head like some sort of macabre halo. I barely managed to avoid the blood pool but my following foot accidentally brushed along the leg of the man that I had shot. Complete disbelief filled my brain as the man with a bullet hole through his left eyeball let out a wet, gurgling sound and started to get back up.

What the fuck?! There was literally no way this man could still be alive. I had definitely punctured both of his lungs with my shots to his chest, let alone the fact that there was a visible hole through his skull where I had shot him in the eye. Plus there was a horrible smell of decay that had been lightly lingering on the air but was now growing stronger since the door had shut behind me. My body was genuinely frozen in fear and confusion as the impossible man jerked his way into a standing position. Only after he...or it rather… took its first convulsive step forward did my limbs seem to unlock and move almost of their own accord. The image of the man tearing a chunk of flesh out of the officer’s neck was still burned into my eyeballs as my legs carried me over to the exit door and my arms turned the key in the lock. Click. The door unlocked and I shoved my way through it, another ice cold spike of fear running down my spine as the same wet, gurgling sound I had heard earlier was made once again, this time seemingly only inches behind me.

I had about one split second to gauge my surroundings since I could feel the looming presence of the dead man behind me. A quick glance to my left revealed another seemingly dead man, his face absolutely covered with blood, was stumbling towards me, knocking a display rack of chip bags over as he came. So I rocketed forward, sprinting towards the end of the aisle where the injured cashier from before was now on his feet, swaying absentmindedly. Something deep inside me told me that he was probably one of those things now. His large, looming form was taking up most of the aisle so I knew I had to act quickly. Once I got just outside of arm’s reach of the man he lunged forward just as the man in the stock room had. Expecting this, I quickly ducked down under his arms and snuck past him as he threw the entire weight of his body at the space I had been occupying moments before. My shoes squeaked loudly against the tile floor as I turned the corner of the shelf to run straight for the door. I noticed almost too late that yet another one of these things was on the other side of a thin metal shelf and was reaching over it towards me. The shelf groaned in protest and rocked forward a bit. It was going to tip into the aisle right in front of me and if it did I would definitely not be able to stop myself in time to keep from smacking my knees right into it and falling on my face. So I just pushed my legs harder than I ever have before, my muscles absolutely screaming at me, and scrambled underneath the falling shelf. I just barely made it. I could feel the edge of the shelf scrape down the back of my leather jacket causing me to stumble a bit as the weight pushed downwards on me but I managed to stay on my feet. Finally the door was right there in front of me. I was only 3 or 4 feet away from it when it slammed open with full force. I still have no idea which of the two emotions I experienced in the span of half a second was stronger and I don’t think I could ever figure it out. First was a gut-wrenching terror as I saw the shape of a person in the doorway and assumed it was another monster-man that would trap me here in this gas station that would no doubt be my grave. Then almost immediately a flush of relief so strong I felt my eyes sting a little bit as a single tear or two sprang up when I realized that the person in the doorway had his arms up, aiming a gun. From my very short experience with them I didn’t believe these things could hold something let alone consciously aim it. Oh… wait… gun. I skidded to a stop and threw my arms up over my head.

“Don’t shoot!” I yelled, hoping this man had decent reaction time and wouldn’t shoot me dead right there, assuming I was like the things I had just escaped.

“Get down!” He yelled back and I dropped to the floor instantly. His gunshot rang out through the entire store and was shortly followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor behind me. I slowly stood as I looked at the thing this man had just saved me from. One of the monster-men behind me was starting to make its way over the display it had knocked over.

“We gotta get out of here,” I said as I ran past the man who saved me, out into the fresh air. The fear of being trapped in that gas station subsided a bit and I felt my heart rate begin to slow for a moment.

“You alright?” He asked me as he followed me out, the door closing automatically behind him. He kept his gun up and ready to fire. From the way he carried himself, he definitely had some sort of proper gun training. That was a plus at least. Idiots with guns could definitely be way more dangerous than walking dead guys. He kept his eyes forward at the parking lot of the gas station, they flicked back and forth as he scanned our surroundings.

“Yeah...I think so...thanks,” I answered, my voice incredibly grateful.

“You can thank me later, when we’re safe,” he countered and nodded his chin to make me turn and look ahead.

“Holy shit…” I raised my gun as well when I saw that there were at least a dozen of these things lumbering towards us.


End file.
